Sorry it's taken so long to write this but it's out! Please enjoy and hope you like it!
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My hands were quick to find the car door handle and I didn't even bother to close it behind me. I needed to get inside--my family was in danger.
"Liam, wait!" Mark shouted behind me. I didn't obey and instead let my feet take me to the porch. Mark's large hand grabbed my arm, pulling me away from the door. I tried to push him off but he was too strong.
"Why the hell are you stopping me?" I shouted. He kept his grip on me but I didn't stop trying to pull away.
"Listen, if the sound is what I think it was there's no way you're going inside," he said.
"No, that's exactly why I'm going inside. I know what it feels like to be attacked and that the person attacking has no self control," I said. It was directed towards him and what he was, and upon the realization he frowned. The cold stung my eyes and my face and it was a struggle not to totally freak out.
"That doesn't mean you can protect them. That person in there isn't just any shifter," he said. I furrowed my brows at his words.
"What do you mean? How could he be any more dangerous than you?" I asked. He frowned and noticed that he was still holding my arm before letting it drop and sighing.
"You know that I can only change during a full moon, right?" he asked.
"Yeah, so what?"
"Is it a full moon tonight?" I let his words sink in.
"What does that mean?" I asked. He looked menacingly at my front door, thinking about his next words carefully.
"The only people that can change without a full moon and control themselves are Alphas. Which means that if we just barge in there we would be going against a shifter even stronger than me," he said. I stared down at my feet in the dim light a street lamp offered, every finger of mine tingling from the cold. I balled up my fists and looked back up to him, a strong feeling rising in me.
"I don't care. It's been twenty minutes since I got that call, they could be..." I couldn't finish my words and instead turned back to my front door. None of the lights were on. His hand landed on my shoulder and I turned my head to the side, examining his every feature closely. He nodded and took my hand, leading me to my family home.
We reached the closed door and I lifted my shaking hand, compelling all the bravery inside me to somehow activate itself. The door swung open with a squeak, the inside of my house pitch black. I took a step inside and something crunched under my weight.
I found the light switch and flicked it on, seeing a pearly white glass scattered on the ground. It was my mother's vase. My heartbeat quickened and my chest sunk. Mark came in front of me, sniffing the air. His expression remained neutral but his eyes squinted.
"I smell blood," he said. I swallowed hard and let the flood of feelings rise.
"Can you tell whose it is?" I asked.
"Yes," he replied. My breath caught in my throat and I tried to push past him. His arm stopped me, his eyes glancing towards me. "It's not them." Confusion flittered on my face and his attention went to the living room. My eyes followed his gaze to the right, the light shining from the entryway illuminating on a tall thin figure.
"I was wondering if you were ever going to come home, family dinner just wasn't the same without you," the figure said with a low feminine voice. She stepped into the light, her features striking against the shadows that we cast. Sharp cheek bones, long wavy brown hair, and a sharp beautifully crafted nose. Her lips were pulled into an amused smile while her gaze was fixed on Mark.
"What are you doing here Georgina?" Mark asked harshly. She chuckled, her eyes coming towards me. I gasped at the amazement of them, the right one an infinite pit of black and the left an icy grey.
"I wanted to meet our pup's new favorite toy. Unfortunately," her eyes shot coldly back to Mark, "he wasn't here. So we decided to leave a message instead." Her smile grew as she planted her hand on the light switch and the living room light turned on, Trish and my father sitting on the floor back to back as a tall male stood behind them. The guy looked about our age, with a lean body type and long, dark hair. My family stared at me, their eyes wide as they tried to talk against the napkins stuffed in their mouth. They struggled to move and I noticed their hands were tied behind their backs. I took half a step forward before Mark's arm held me back again, his eyes stuck on Georgina's face.
"You bitch, let my family go," I spat at her. Her smile faltered and her eyebrows furrowed.
"Your toy squeaks, how annoying."
Mark inched closer to her, his muscles tense as if he was holding back.
"Why are you doing this?" he asked.
"You caused a scene, Marcus."
"I fixed it," he replied.
She frowned and leaned against the back of our brown leather couch. "You might have flipped the car to make it look like an accident, but his blood was is in our woods. If blood is spilled, we leave no witnesses."
"I didn't want to kill him," Mark growled. The corners of her lips turned up, glancing in between us.
"I see you care for him, but that won't keep him alive the next time you shift. And who's to say that he'll even keep your secret? I will not have our pack hunted because you chose to spare his life."
"I trust him," Mark said. Georgina stood and leaned into Mark's face, her mouth disgustingly close to his.
She pulled her lips into a snarl. "I don't."
She lunged for Mark, his hands flying to push her back but she pinned him against the wall. Her hands grew long as nails emerged and her face became monstrous. He snarled inhumanly as she reached her hand back before plunging into his chest. I didn't think as I jumped for her, not even able to grab on before she threw me off. I felt a hard surface collide with my back before falling forward. I struggled to breathe, the wind knocked out of me. A hand grabbed my collar and hoisted me up, my eyes moving frantically as I choked and sputtered. I saw the two of them on the other side of the couch, Trish and my dad to the right of me now. I had gotten thrown over the couch and into the fireplace. I finally caught my breath and gasped as pain coursed through me from my back. I heard my family screaming; Trish sobbing uncontrollably. Fresh tears trailed down my cheeks and every limb shook. Georgina jerked her hand from Mark's chest and he sunk to the ground, her attention leaving him and coming to me. The hand that held me up lowered me to my knees, my head lolling forward.
The clicking of heels on wood made me raise my pounding head to look up past Georgina's tall boots and to her smiling expression.
"I'll fucking kill you," I said. Her shoulders hunched and she threw back her head to laugh, as if what I said was a joke. She crouched down and grabbed my chin, Mark's blood still warm as it touched my skin.
"You poor thing, you can't even lay a hand on me. Your sister might have been able to nick Mason, but then again he's no alpha." I felt the grip on my collar tighten and I thought about the blood Mark smelled on his way in.
"So what then, kill me and my family? What about causing a scene?" Her smile grew sinister.
Softly she said, "No witnesses." Her hand slid from my chin to my throat, her claws growing again and digging into my skin. I groaned as individual pricks became cuts of searing pain and hot blood dripped down.
"Stop it," a voice said from across the room. Her nails didn't push in any further but she held them in place as she turned. "I'll do anything," Mark said as he stood, holding one hand over his wounded chest.
A deep voice boomed above me, "They must die."
"There's another way, Mason. Georgina, please."
Georgina looked back at me and grimaced. "You know what that costs, Marcus. It will be easier to kill them."
"No, I can do it." Mark rounded the couch carefully and came behind Georgina. "Let me do this."
She looked me over once more, her silver and brown eyes beautifully terrifying. She hissed and let me go, Mason's grip also releasing me. I fell forwards, my arms catching my fall and holding me up. Mark replaced where Georgina was and put a hand on my head. I breathed heavily, the gashes on my neck bleeding worse now.
"Liam, I'm so sorry this ever happened to you, I should have erased your memory when I had the chance." I lifted my head and looked into his eyes, the copper shining with moisture.
"Mark no--" I coughed, the force of it pushing more blood out and onto the floor with a sound like a slap. My arms began to give out and I felt his hands on me, shaking. More tears fell as I felt my body growing colder, the fear and pain easing into something light.
"You cut too deep Georgina," he said panicky. " Liam, it's okay. It's going to be alright, hold on. Just please hold on." I could barely feel his hands as he moved me again, his eyes looking into mine. I could hear his muffled crying as well as my family's. It was an awful thing to hear, people begging and screaming as the world around me started to fade. His eyes, his beautiful sparkling eyes seemed to glow with a fiery intensity and I felt it, as if every sense of mine was concetrating at once as a spark ignited pain everywhere.
And then it was black.
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Darkness. Something was wrong, fear and dread crawling up my throat. I was suffocating, drowning on my own blood. I couldn't speak as the liquid flowed hot and heavy.
Screaming, crying. Where was it coming from?
"It's going to be alright. Just hold on, hold on..."
I awoke with a start, clawing and gasping for air. Cold sweat encased my body and I threw off the covers. I opened my door and raced down the stairs, the tv on. I creeped around the couch, seeing that it was my dad. Noticing me, he paused what he was watching and turned to me.
"You alright son?" he asked. I nodded and swallowed, looking everything in the room over. Nothing was out of place.
"I just had a nightmare is all. Made me want to check on you." I said. He chuckled and pressed play on the remote and the movie resumed.
"Get some sleep Liam, it's almost two in the morning."
"Okay, goodnight Dad."
"Check to make sure the front door is locked will ya? I can't seem to remember if I locked it or not."
With a sigh I walked over to the door, turning the doorknob and being met with resistance.
"Locked," I called out.
"Thanks, sleep well," he said, waving lazily before laughing at something on the tv. I began walking when I noticed the table near the entrance was oddly empty.
"Wait, what happened to the vase that was in the hall?" I asked while walking out.
"Uh I don't know," he said, his attention still on the tv, "I think Trish might have put it up or something. You know how she's always rearranging the house with new stuff."
"Yeah I guess," I said, walking towards the stairs. "It was kind of ugly anyways I guess." My own comment made me frown, an unexplained ache following.
It was just a vase.